


Good Job, Sammy

by JJ1564



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Presents, Caring John Winchester, Gen, Schmoop, Teen Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/pseuds/JJ1564
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John needs Sam’s help to give Dean a happy thirteenth birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Job, Sammy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spn_bigpretzel birthday challenge: "I went to…’s birthday party, and I took…"
> 
> So here, Sam went to Dean’s birthday party and took exactly what he knew his big brother would like.

John knew he wasn’t going to win any best father of the year awards. For starters, he had always placed too much responsibility on Dean’s young shoulders; he was wracked with guilt about that but also thankful that he had Dean to take care of Sammy.

So he was going to make a real effort on Dean’s thirteenth birthday – buy the kid a present that wasn’t a weapon, take him out for a meal, perhaps even go to the movies.

He really didn’t take into account getting thrown hard against the wall by the spirit of a frontiersman, not just two days before Dean’s birthday. He had concussion and a broken ankle, which meant he wasn’t going to be able to get Dean’s presents, or take him out anywhere.

“Sammy,” John whispered to his younger son while Dean was showering the on the morning of his birthday. “I need you to be a big boy and go shopping for me, for Dean’s present.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up; “You remembered?” Damn kid was too friggin’ smart. Okay, he had forgotten Dean’s birthday last year, to his shame, but that was another reason why he wanted to make this one special.

“Yes, Mr Smarty-pants, I remembered,” John retorted with a smile, “I want you to get him a nice present. I dunno… a shirt or something, and a cake, I guess. Can you do that for me?”

Sam nodded, looking pleased to be able to do something useful, especially as it was for Dean. Luckily, the motel was a short walk from a Wal-Mart, so John gave Sam the cash he’d kept aside for the occasion.

That afternoon, Dean’s face was a picture of joy and surprise; John had ordered in pizza, with Dean’s favorite toppings and onion rings. John felt a twinge of guilt when Dean’s eyes widened even more at the small stack of presents Sam handed him after they had eaten. He had obviously thought the pizza was all he was getting.

“These…they’re all for me?” Dean eyed the untidily-wrapped stack suspiciously.

“Well, it’s your birthday, dumbass!” Sam teased.

Dean kicked Sam under the table, but any rebuke was curtailed as Dean tore the wrapping off the first present. “AC/DC!” Dean yelled in glee, immediately tugging off his shirt and pulling the black t-shirt with the band’s logo on over his head. “Awesome!”

“There’s more,” Sam grinned. John smiled too; Sam had done a great job.

Dean tore into the next small package, whooping when he saw the “For Those About to Rock We Salute You” cassette tape. “Gee, these are…I’m…” he looked from John to Sam like he might cry, so John saved him from further embarrassment by nudging the third parcel towards him.

“You got one more,” John said, leaning back to watch.

“Wow, this is all so great…” Dean ripped open the last present and laughed when he saw the mirrored sunglasses.

“They’re for when you’re sittin’ in the front seat of the ‘pala, and it’s sunny,” Sam blushed a little as Dean beamed at him. “I thought they looked cool; an’ that you’d look cool wearing them.”

“Did you choose all of these, Sammy?” Dean asked, already on his feet and lifting Sam up to swing him around. Sam nodded, laughing.

“He went and got it all,” John said, adding proudly, “he did a better job than I would’ve.”

“And there’s one more thing,” Sam gasped, as Dean put him down.

“More?” Dean looked amazed. John thought Dean’s eyes might actually pop out if he opened them any wider.

Sam disappeared into the kitchen area and came back with an apple pie and a can of whipped cream. “I figured you’d like pie more than cake.” Sam explained.

Dean looked from Sam to the pie and back again, uncharacteristically lost for words.

“Thanks,” Dean managed to say, “This…this is the best birthday ever!”

“Well it’s not every day you become a teenager,” John smiled at him, wanting to hug him or ruffle his hair. Dean grinned at him, the grin that warmed John’s soul, and thanked him again.

John watched his boys laughing and joking as they ate the pie and squirted cream into each other’s mouths. Their lives were hard, with very little time for fun or for luxuries, yet they hardly ever complained. Dean had been so pleased with the gifts Sam had chosen for him, and Sam had chosen so well. John felt his eyes smart with tears, and silently cursed the stupid concussion – it must be that, he thought wryly, ‘cause John Winchester didn’t cry.

John knew he was not the best father in the world, but he was pretty damned sure he had the best sons.


End file.
